


Coulrophopbia

by ItsaVikingThing



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Asami is terrified of clowns, F/F, Fluff, Humour, clown!korra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-28 14:19:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17788994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsaVikingThing/pseuds/ItsaVikingThing
Summary: Asami Sato is a dedicated, caring, compassionate and well-liked paediatrician at Republic City Hospital. While she would be the first to admit that she hasn't got every aspect of her life figured out, Asami is happy in her work and content with where she is in her life. She really doesn't have any problems at all!Well, there isone: Asami Sato is deeply afraid of clowns.Luckily for Asami, there aren't any clowns in or near Republic City Hospital.Until the circus comes to town, and everything changes for Asami...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [Writerleft](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writerleft) made me do this. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Asami is reviewing a patient’s file when the elevator door opens, so she gets no warning and no time to prepare for what’s about to happen. She starts to walk into the elevator, looks up, gasps, and freezes in horror. Asami has been at Republic City Hospital for over a year, and she had begun to think that she could handle anything the life of a paediatrician could throw at her. But, she realises, there was nothing that could prepare her for _this_ : there is someone in the elevator.

That someone is a clown.

They have a shock of coarse, orange curly hair. They’re wearing loose-fitting blue clothes and are swathed in an enormous, patched, multi-coloured coat. With, _of course_ , the plastic bulb of a fake flower in their lapel, all the better for squirting water--or some other deadly fluid--into unsuspecting eyes. The flower’s nozzle is aimed threateningly at Asami, she realises, but there’s simply nothing she can do. Almost two decades of martial arts training can’t help her because her muscle memory gets amnesia in the face of that _face_.

To some, the round red nose, inhumanly white skin and the blood red grin--far larger than any human mouth should be--might appear...cheerful. But Asami knows better. That painted smile is a _lie_ , that whole face is a _liar_ , and even though this clown can’t possibly be him, Asami is six again, and helpless. Any moment now, Asami knows that there will be a terrible, suffocating pie in her face, and her throat will close, and the world will go dark, and the last thing Asami will hear in this life will be the terrible mocking laughter of a clown.

“Going up?” the clown asks cheerfully, and she grins a real grin. It makes her painted mouth twist into an impossible shape, revealing her gleaming teeth.

Asami swallows. “Noooo...no! No. Th-thank you, no! No, I’ll get the next stairs. I mean! I’ll walk up the elevator. Uh, no, I’ll--”

The elevator doors try to close, but Asami’s leg is in the way, so when the edge of one door bumps into her thigh, the doors patiently rumble open again. The clown’s nightmarish face contorts into a horrible new configuration. One of the few rational parts of Asami’s mind still functioning _thinks_ that the clown merely raised her eyebrows, but all the other parts of Asami’s mind are too busy crawling down into the shelter of her subconscious to verify that hypothesis. 

In her surprisingly pleasant voice, the clown says, “So this is just a guess, and I promise I won’t be offended, but do you maybe have a...thing about clowns?”

Asami realises that she’s clutching the files she’s carrying close to her chest, crushing them. “No, no! Nothing like that! Why would you think...? No, I just...uh…”

The clown shuffles her feet. “Look, I like to think I brighten days, but, uh, I know some people don’t like...and you’re a doctor! Saving actual lives! So you should take the elevator, because your needs are way more important than mine! I’ll get out, and you can--”

The clown starts to shuffle towards Asami, and that’s enough to jumpstart Asami’s motor skills. Asami backs away from the elevator, waving a hand. “No, it’s fine! Really! Besides, I just remembered that someone on a completely different floor than this elevator goes to is paging me right now, so I should really go use one of the elevators that goes to all the floors so that I can--”

Mercifully, the clown stops trying to come after Asami and the elevator door closes before Asami has to hear the end of the sentence she was babbling. The last thing Asami sees of the clown before the elevator separates them, though, is the one thing that the makeup and the costume couldn’t disguise: her eyes. She has wide blue eyes, and they were full of human concern instead of the inhuman malevolence the clowns of Asami’s nightmares typically contain.

Asami slumps in the corridor, taking a minute to breathe and try to shake off the strange alloy of relief and guilt she’s feeling. When she’s composed again, she heads for the stairs, deciding to avoid the elevators for the rest of the day.

* * *

Once Asami’s mind begins to function again, it isn’t exactly difficult to work out what happened. The clown is here to visit the children’s ward, not to finish the work her colleague started twenty years ago. The rational parts of Asami’s brain now outnumbering the panicked ones, Asami is able to remind herself that the clown at her sixth birthday party didn’t _mean_ to almost kill her.

Probably. Maybe...

Asami tries to push the clown encounter out of her mind and focus on her work, but the problem with that is that Asami is a paediatrician. Avoiding the children’s ward all day is going to be slightly impossible. And there is no way that Asami is going to explain to Kya that she needs to leave early today because she’s scared that a clown might get her. Besides, there’s only so long the clown is going to be allowed to stalk the hospital. Asami just needs to wait things out.

The next hour proves to be simultaneously one of the most stressful and _stupid_ of Asami’s life. She spends it sneaking around her own ward, listening for the sounds of laughter--or screams--that might warn her of the presence of the clown. Whenever Asami _does_ hear children laughing, she finds any excuse she can to be anywhere else for a while.

Somehow, Asami gets through the hour without running into the clown again. She makes a point of hiding in an empty exam room for ten minutes, trying to complete paperwork in spite of her shaking hands, to ensure that she won’t run into the clown when it… _she_ leaves the ward.

When Asami thinks it might be safe, she goes to the nurses station. “Hey, Opal.”

“Hey, Doc!” Opal beams at her from behind the counter. She’s a couple of years younger than Asami, and Asami’s friend and favourite member of staff on the ward. Opal is kind, funny, caring and sweet, but she also has deep reserves of stubbornness and anger she’s been known to tap into on behalf of her patients. Most of the doctors in the hospital like her, and the ones that don’t are too scared of her to cross her. There’s no sign of Opal’s more formidable side now, though, as she hops to her feet and leans over the counter, grinning even wider. “Did you see the clown? I can’t believe we have a clown now! Isn’t it amazing?”

Asami blinks. “She isn’t finished?”

“Oh, for the day, yeah! She had to go back to the circus. You just missed her.”

“Circus? There’s a circus?” The circus...also known, in Asami’s mind, as the Lair of Clowns, or The Pit Where All Joy Dies.

Opal bounces on the spot. “Yeah there is! Well, I _say_ circus, but did you know she’s from Circus of the Moon? They’re amazing! They did a command performance for the Fire Lord last month! Tickets are almost _impossible_ to get for their Republic City shows, but one of their stars is going be performing right here every week! How lucky are the kids? How lucky are _we_?”

Asami’s stomach twists into a knot and it feels like her heart stops working for a few beats. “So...so lucky,” she croaks. Stuffing her hands into the pockets of her white coat, Asami clears her throat. “So she’ll be here every week? At the same time? Every week? For...weeks? _Every_ week?”

“Yeah! They’re in town for the next couple of months, and she said she’d try to come in while she’s here, anyway. I hope she does. She’s _great_ with the kids.”

“I see.” Asami clenches her fists. “That’s...good. That’s really...good.”

And it is. If the clown has Opal’s seal of approval, then Asami knows that having her on the ward will help the children. So even if the next couple of months are going to be...challenging, Asami is determined to rise to the challenge. It’s the needs of the children that matter the most, after all. Asami can handle this. She just needs to work out a plan.

Opal tilts her head, her smile becoming sly. “You won’t want to miss her next time, Asami. She’s really funny. And sweet. And you know, when we were chatting, she was _very_ keen to learn about--you okay?”

Startled out of her thoughts, Asami flinches. She offers Opal a rueful smile. “Sorry, I was thinking about something else. I, uh, actually need to go, but we’ll catch up soon!”

“Oh! Uh, okay! See ya, Doc!”

Asami turns and briskly walks away, turning over her plan in her mind. If having this clown here benefits the children, then Asami is going to act like the adult she is and _deal_ with the situation in a rational, logical manner.

* * *

Kya puffs her cheeks and blows out a breath. “Sorry, Asami, but I need you in that slot. You know we’re shorthanded. I just don’t have anyone who can swap those shifts with you.”

Asami can’t quite stifle a groan. “Come on, Kya! It’s just a few weekends! I’ll cover any other shift going!”

“Normally I’d say yes, especially if it means you’re developing some kind of social life. When _is_ the last time you did something just for fun?”

“Kya!” Asami fights off a blush. “I do fun things all the time!”

Kya raises an eyebrow. “Reading medical journals doesn’t count as fun just because you have a glass of wine while you’re doing it.”

“That’s not...that’s not _all_ I do for fun.” Asami fights the urge to sink into her seat. Before Kya can ask her what _else_ Asami does, she blurts,“What about just...if I’m not on the ward? For an hour or so? One day a week? The, uh, same day. Each week.”

Kya opens her mouth, pauses, and closes it again. She stares at Asami, who flushes and looks away. “You definitely haven’t developed a social life, then. Which means you don’t have an excuse not to come out for drinks in a couple of weeks!” Asami blinks, but before she can say anything, Kya leans across her desk and says, “Now that drinks are settled, what is this curiously _specific_ request about, Asami?”

“Nothing!”

“Ooooh, I see. It’s actually _nothing_! Uh huh.” Kya rolls her eyes. “You’re a worse liar than my wife is, Asami.”

“Lin is the Chief of Police. I’d...have thought she’d be an excellent liar.”

“You’ve clearly never played strip poker with her.” Asami gapes at Kya, who grins and winks at her. “And you probably shouldn’t, with that bad of a poker face. Unless you’re an exhibitionist.”

Asami quickly stands up and makes for the door of Kya’s office. “Well, thanks for trying! And for making it impossible for me to ever look Chief Beifong in the eye--or anywhere!--ever again. I’ll just--”

“Asami.”

Asami sighs and stops, her hand on the door handle. “Yes?”

Kya’s voice is softer when she asks, “What’s really going on?”

Asami hesitates, then shakes her head. “Nothing. I...I’m fine. It’ll be fine!”

Kya sighs. “Okay. If that’s how you...sorry I couldn’t help you this time. But if there’s ever anything else...”

“Thanks, Kya.” Asami smiles and makes a point of standing up straight. “It’s not a big deal, really. Sorry I bothered you.”

“It’s no bother. My door is always open to you, Asami. Just make sure you close it behind you! There are lots of other people I don’t want in here.”

Asami laughs softly. “Thanks, Kya. And yes! I’ll go for drinks.”

“Excellent!” Kya grins. “Feel free to bring a...friend!”

Asami winces. Kya knows all of Asami’s friends, because they work at the hospital. And given that Asami really doesn’t have a social life outside of the hospital, significant pause ‘friends’ are nowhere on the horizon. Asami makes a non-committal noise and leaves Kya’s office, carefully closing the door behind her. In the corridor, she groans and whispers, “Now what do I do?”

* * *

A week later, when clown o’clock happens, Asami has used her powers of adulthood to arrange things so that she can hide in the break room doing paperwork. Asami is quite proud of how well she’s coping with the problem in a mature and reasonable way, until her pager alerts her that she’s needed in exam room three and her heart rate immediately spikes. Asami allows herself three seconds of dread before she locks everything else away and puts her doctor face on.

No clowns are lying in wait in exam room three, only a middle-aged woman and her young son. The boy is sitting up on the examination table. His shoulders are hunched and he’s worrying his lower lip. He is clutching his right arm and his eyes are like rain clouds: full of liquid and threatening to pour it out should the atmosphere shift in the wrong way.

Asami smiles at the mother, but she keeps her focus mostly on the boy. “Hi, there,” she says softly. “I’m Doctor Sato. You can call me Asami. What’s your name?”

He stares up at her for a second, then looks to his mother. She steps forward, placing a soothing hand on his back. “I’m Pema,” she says, offering Asami a tired smile. “It’s okay, you can tell the nice lady your name.”

The boy looks at Asami again. Hesitantly he says, “Rohan.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Rohan.” Asami leans down to his eye level. “I know it isn’t very nice for you, being here, but I promise we’ll have you patched up and back home as quickly as we can. Sound good?”

Rohan nods slowly. “Okay...”

“Can I ask what happened to your arm?”

Rohan huffs out a ragged breath. “I was playing with my brother. I fell. It...it _hurts_.”

Pema runs her hand up and down Rohan’s back. “Rohan’s brother was trying to see how high he could push Rohan on the swings in the park while mommy was distracted.”

Asami nods. She smiles at Rohan. “Rohan, can I see your arm? The sooner we figure out why it hurts, the sooner we can start making it better.” Rohan seems to find the logic compelling. He lets Asami examine his arm, wincing a little when she presses down on the swollen flesh of his forearm. “The good news is, nothing’s broken. I think you’ve bruised the bone, but we’ll do an X-ray to rule out anything worse.”

Rohan’s eyes widen. “What’s th-that?”

“It sounds scary, huh?” Asami smiles at him. “Rohan, a lot of things _seem_ scary when we don’t know what they are, but they really aren’t scary at all when we learn about them. So I’m going to explain it to you, and if you have any questions you want to ask, you can. Deal?”

He slowly nods.

“An X-ray machine is like a camera. A very _special_ camera. We’ll take a picture of your arm with it, and you know what that picture will show us?” Rohan shakes his head. His eyes are still wide, but he’s no longer chewing his lip. “The picture will show us your _bones_. Cool, right?”

“That...does sound pretty cool.” Rohan’s brow furrows. “Will I get to see?”

“Absolutely! We’ll meet up back here when the X-ray’s done and I’ll show you what I find and tell you how to take care of your arm so it gets better. Okay?”

Rohan nods decisively. “Yeah! I wanna do the X-ray! I wanna see my bones!”

Pema chuckles. “Well, someone’s perked up!” Over Rohan’s head she mouths a ‘thank you’ to Asami, who smiles before she turns to her computer and sets up the X-ray. Asami keeps busy with paperwork until the results come back, and she meets up with Pema and Rohan again. Asami is able to assure Pema that there is neither a break nor a fracture while Rohan gapes at the screen.

“Apply ice and keep the arm elevated to reduce the swelling. It’ll take a month or so to heal fully, and Rohan will have to be careful with it. No wrestling with older brothers for a while.”

Pema nods. “I will be having words with Meelo on that subject, rest assured.” In a lower voice she adds, “Thank you again. You’ve been very good with him.”

“Oh! My pleasure. But, really, it comes with the job.”

Pema shakes her head. “I’ve met enough doctors to know that simply isn’t true. If it isn’t rude...do you have any children of your own?”

Asami snorts, then blushes. “Ah, no! I mean, I haven’t had time to even think about dating in…” _Years_. “A while. My girlfriend in med school talked about adopting when we were older but I’m not really...sure why I’m telling you any of this?”

Pema smiles. “I have a kind face. You’d be amazed at what people who aren’t my kids tell me. But I didn’t mean to put you on the spot, sorry!”

“It’s fine! Ah...” Asami swallows and takes a second to recover her composure. “So! Do you need an ice pack, or...?”

“Oh, no!” Pema laughs, touching her hand to Rohan’s head to pull his attention from the screen. “I have access to plenty!” In response to Asami’s raised eyebrows, Pema adds, “We’re with the circus. We have a well stocked first aid kit. Ice packs won’t be a problem.”

Rohan blinks, peering up at his mother. “Did you say ice cream?”

Asami looks at Pema, sees the hint of a smile in the corner of her mouth, and says, “Definitely ice cream. That’s going to be an important part of your recovery. Doctor’s orders.”

Pema winks at Asami. “Oh, dear! I suppose we’ll simply _have to_ buy some now!”

“Well, sounds like you have things to take care of! I’d better let you--” Asami opens the curtain to let Pema and Rohan out, only to freeze when she spots the clown in the corridor, roaming the ward sweeping her painted grin around like a spotlight beam. “No, no, no!”

The clown spots Asami and hesitates, until Pema and Rohan step out of the examination room. That gets her moving in their direction. “Whoah, Pema? Rohan?” She kneels in front of him. “What happened, buddy?”

Rohan grins sunnily up at the thing of nightmares. “Meelo pushed me too hard and I fell but then Asami showed me my bones and now I’m getting _ice cream_!”

“Oh!” The clown glances at Asami, starts to smile, then quickly looks away. “Meelo is such a _butt_. Everybody tells me Asami is a pretty great doctor, though. I bet she took good care of you.”

“She totally did!”

“Ha! Well, then the only question left is: what _flavour_ ice cream are we talking here? Don’t settle for vanilla, buddy. We’ve got to think waaay bigger!”

As Rohan talks animatedly to the clown, Asami finds herself backing into the examination room, her eyes fixed on the clown in case it decides to move aggressively or make a joke at her. And _why_ did the clown have to mention _vanilla_? Could she know…? Asami tries to ignore the tightness in her throat and to make her hands work so that she can close the curtain of the exam room. It’s a flimsy defence at best, but it’s better than nothing...

“Are you alright?” Pema gently touches her arm, making Asami jump. 

“Uh, sorry!” Asami blurts. “I should really go do medicine...things. In private. Right now!”

Pema gives her an odd look. Her grip tightens on the sleeve of Asami’s coat, curbing Asami’s impulse to flee. “I’m retired, but back when our show was setting up in fields rather than selling out theatres, do you know what I did?”

Asami blinks. She shakes her head.

“I was a fortune teller. Now, I’m sure that you don’t believe in nonsense like that. And I’m not going to try to convince you that I have powers, don’t worry. But I did just get a sudden flash of premonition, and it’s been a long time since I’ve felt one this strong. Would you like me to tell you what it was?”

Asami shakes her head again, but she can feel her panic receding. While that leaves plenty of room for embarrassment to take over, Asami is able to muster a polite smile. “Am I going to meet someone tall, dark and handsome?”

“Mmm, no. No, I believe you’re soon going to meet someone of average height, who is a sweet goof and who somehow has no clue exactly how beautiful or charming she is. You’re going to feel a little scared at the idea of getting to know her at first, but…” Pema smiles, but while the corners of her eyes crinkle in a kindly manner, there is a glint of mischief in the eyes themselves. “Once you get to know her even a little, you won’t be scared at all anymore.”

Asami frowns. “That certainly sounds...odd, but I don’t--”

“Yes, well. That’s my premonition.” Pema pats Asami’s arm. “If you should ever end up at the theatre, do ask for me and let me know how I did!”

With that, Pema walks away, sweeping up Rohan and even the clown in her smiling wake. Asami is left feeling deeply confused. She suspects, though, that Pema simply sensed Asami’s discomfort and that the ‘premonition’ was nothing more than nonsense Pema used to distract Asami from her fear. Asami feels both grateful and ashamed that she so obviously lost her cool. At least the hour of the clown is almost over. Asami hides in the examination room for ten minutes, to be safe, and thinks about what she can do in the next week to ready herself to face her tormentor.

* * *

By the end of her shift that day, Asami is thinking about nothing other than going home for the evening, showering, making dinner, then curling up with a good medical journal and a glass of wine. She passes the nurses station, simply waving at Opal because she’s busy talking to someone. 

Before Asami can leave, though, Opal calls after her. “Hey, Doc!” Opal smirks when Asami turns back. “There’s someone waiting for you!”

Asami blinks at Opal, then blinks at the strange woman who faces her with a crooked smile. “Can I help you? Are you a relative, or…?”

The woman chuckles. “No, nothing like that! I’m Korra. I’m, uh, well...I’m the clown.”

Korra has traded her her loose clothes and huge coat for a pair of black skinny jeans and a faded blue t-shirt bearing a Circus of the Moon logo. Under the horrible wig, Korra has been concealing shoulder length, chestnut brown hair. Without the makeup and the false nose, Asami can see that Korra has the brown skin of the Water Tribe, that she is in her late twenties, and that her features are not nightmarish at all, but...nice. Better than nice, really.

Her eyes are the same, though: wide and warm and blue and kind.

Asami’s stomach twists, though it doesn’t seem to be entirely down to terror this time. She smiles, hoping it looks genuine. “Oh! Hello. Again. Um...how are you?”

Korra’s smile widens. In the context of her very nice face, her teeth are neat, white, even, and not at all threatening. “I’m good, thanks! I just finished working out a new routine, which is a wire act, so it _was_ a workout. And that means I feel _great_ , because basically I’m swimming in endorphins!” Korra’s grin slips slightly. “Which...you did not ask about, was maybe weird to say, and you probably didn’t want to know. Uh...”

She blushes, rubbing the back of her neck with one hand. A part of Asami’s mind that has been quiet for several years when presented with a number of men and women tries to force Asami’s eyes to watch the impressive muscles in Korra’s arm shift under her smooth skin. It takes all the other parts of her mind and a great deal of effort to stay focused on Korra’s face.

“I don’t mind. I mean…is this about Rohan? Is he okay?”

“Huh? Oh! No, yeah, he’s fine. This isn’t about him. It’s about you. Well, me and you, I guess.” Korra’s cheeks become redder still. “N-not, uh, in a...um, I mean, I wanted to talk to you about us! No, wait--” 

“Korra…” Asami becomes aware of Opal grinning beside her, her gaze flitting back and forth between Asami and Korra’s faces. “I’m actually finished for the day, so we could talk on the way out?”

Opal mutters, “Aww, it was just getting good!”

“Good _bye_ , Opal.” Asami shoots her a pointed look before walking towards the elevators. Korra says goodbye to Opal and hurries after Asami, who decides to skip the elevator and go for the stairs. The memory of their first encounter is too fresh in Asami’s mind. As _stupid_ as it is, Asami can’t help the fear that curls its fingers loosely around her lungs at the memory of it. Asami tries to keep any hint of it out of her voice when she asks, “So, how can I help you?”

Korra chuckles. “I was going to ask you the same thing. I know you’ve been avoiding me because you have a thing about clowns, so I was hoping--”

“I do _not_ have a thing about clowns,” Asami says icily. She winces and tries to soften her tone. “I just...am very busy when you’re here and don’t have time to take in a show. I hear the kids like you, though, which is the part that matters.”

“Oh, uh, thanks? And that’s good, but--”

“You’re welcome.” Asami pushes open the door at the bottom of the stairs. She holds it open for Korra, still avoiding looking at the other woman’s face. “Now, I don’t mean to be rude, but I do need to get going. It was nice talking to you.”

Asami quickens her pace, making for the exit. 

Korra jogs after her. “So, uh, real quick! This thing where you have a thing about clowns, could we--”

Asami makes it out into the parking lot and turns to face Korra. “For the last time, I do _not_ have--”

“I’ll quit,” Korra blurts. “I’m clearly making you uncomfortable, and that’s not okay, and I don’t want that. So I’ll quit. I can probably find someone else to come entertain the kids. I just thought that meeting me without the makeup and stuff might help, but I’m making things worse. I’m sorry. Bye.”

She turns and quickly strides away, her shoulders hunched, her head down. Asami’s fear is washed away in a flood of shame. “What am I _doing_?”

Asami calls out, “Korra! Wait!” When Korra pauses, Asami jogs over to her. “I’m the one who should apologise. I was being rude. Your visit ended hours ago, and you don’t have a bag, so...you took even more time out of your day just to come and talk to me, didn’t you?”

“Yeah…” Korra smiles sheepishly. “Maybe not my brightest idea, but I kinda like dealing with problems as soon as I can.” She blushes. “Not that _you_ are a problem! At all! I just meant--”

“I...know what you mean. And please don’t think that you have to stop, uh, clowning around the hospital on my account. Even if...” Asami sucks in a breath and slowly sighs it out. “So, the truth is...I, ah, I maybe do have a _bit_ of a thing about clowns. Just a tiny bit!”

Korra’s shoulders ease down. “Yeah. Well, with all the babbling and the flop sweat, I did kinda get that impression when we met? Just a tiny bit.”

“ _Flop sweat_?” Asami opens her mouth, ready to explain exactly how _not_ sweaty she was when first faced with Korra the Clown, when she sees the wide smile on Korra’s face. “Are you...making fun of me?”

Korra’s smile becomes a grin. “Just a tiny bit.”

Asami snorts out a laugh, becoming aware of how tense she was only when her muscles begin to relax. “I walked into that one, huh?”

“Just a--”

“Hey!” Asami shakes her head, but she finds a smile lingering on her lips. “I thought you wanted to help me! Making fun of me isn’t helping!”

“Fair point. For what it’s worth, I didn’t see any flop sweat and the babbling was a completely understandable response in the circumstances. It was kind of endearing, actually!” Asami raises her eyebrows. Korra’s cheeks redden and she hastily adds, “I mean, uh, what would you like me to do that would help you, Doctor Sato?”

Asami hesitates. Korra watches her patiently, her wide blue eyes full of warmth. Asami feels a flutter in her stomach that has nothing to do with fear or guilt. “First, please call me Asami.”

“You got it, Asami!”

“Second...would you maybe like to get some dinner and talk?”

Korra’s sudden grin is dazzling. “I’d love to!”


	2. Chapter 2

Asami drives them to a restaurant she likes near the hospital. Over the course of the drive and the business of getting seated and ordering, Korra deftly avoids the kinds of small talk that usually leave Asami looking for a way out of the conversation. Instead she talks about the kids at the hospital, confirming Asami’s suspicion that tiny, shy Jiro has the best smile to ever grace human lips, that Cixi was so impressed by Kya that she’s seriously considering becoming a doctor as well as a rock star when she grows up, and that Pakku has the sort of intense, confused crush on Opal that makes both Korra and Asami glad that they aren’t thirteen anymore.

It occurs to Asami--as Korra describes Cixi performing an air guitar solo for her today--that if Korra were trying to find a shortcut to Asami’s good graces, then she couldn’t have picked a better topic of conversation. The thing is, though, that given how animated and enthusiastic Korra is, Asami’s pretty sure that Korra is talking about the kids because she likes them and she wants to. And _that_ fact means that Korra has become one of Asami’s new favourite people by the time their food arrives.

Conversation breaks down as they begin to eat. In the relative silence that follows, Asami finds her thoughts drifting back to what brought them here. “So. You’re a clown.”

“I am a clown,” Korra says gravely.

“Why…?”

Korra chuckles. “Clowns make a lot of people happy, Asami. Not _everyone_ , sure, but...”

Asami can feel her face heating up. “I didn’t mean to imply--”

“It’s okay.” Korra puts down her chopsticks and purses her lips. “I do like making people happy, but that wasn’t why I became a clown. I guess...I guess I realised one day that I was allowed to make _myself_ happy, and that’s where it started.”

“You thought being a _clown_ would make you happy?” Asami blurts.

Korra laughs, which only makes Asami’s face hotter. Korra leans across the table and gently touches Asami’s arm. “Hey, no. I’m sorry. I’m not laughing at you, I swear. I just...we’re coming at this from really different angles, I guess. Let me try to explain it better?”

Asami nods, too embarrassed at her outburst to risk speaking for the moment.

“So, uh, I was a gymnast in high school. I was fiercely competitive, really focused on my training, determined to compete at the Five Nations, all that stuff. At the time, I would have said it was my dream. I _did_ say that! Often and loudly! I...am a bit of a talker, if you hadn’t noticed.”

Asami smiles. “I had, you are, and it is no way a bad thing. I like listening to you.” Korra stares at her, and it’s only in the brief silence of the moment that Asami becomes aware of just how quickly Korra’s voice and story had soothed her. Asami finds herself tensing again, so she quickly says, “So, uh, gymnastics wasn’t really your dream?”

Korra blinks. “Oh! Uh, no. Well, kind of. I did love performing, for the physical thrill and for an audience. I still do! But...but I was so focused on the competitive side, I kinda lost the joy in the creative side. I was pretty good. My coach expected big things of me. A lot of people began to expect big things of me. It felt like the only way to please _them_ was to please the judges And trying to please the judges had me chasing the technical perfection my coach demanded, and...eh, I was a real butt for a while to everyone around me.” Korra looks away for a second. When she looks back, she smiles. It’s the first time she’s looked anything other than utterly sincere. “But luckily, I got injured!”

“ _Luckily_?” Instinctively, Asami lays her hand over the back of Korra’s. “What happened?”

“I dislocated my elbow practising a routine. No bone or ligament damage. I really _was_ lucky.” Korra’s smile softens. “It happened a couple of weeks before my try out for the Southern Water Tribe National Team, though. Blew my chances. My coach tried to push me into performing anyway, said the injury wasn’t too severe, I could get back to practice after a week, and--”

“He did _what_?” Asami knows, on a rational level, that this happened a long time ago and that Korra is here now and healthy. But she has seen too many children hurt through the callousness of adults who are supposed to care for them. Her anger spills out before she can contain it. “He had absolutely no right! A week of immobility is the bare minimum of recovery time! And there’s no way you can go from that to intense physical activity without causing real, lasting harm! Is this coach still coaching? What’s his name?”

Korra is staring at her again, and when the spilled anger evaporates, Asami feels a fresh wave of embarrassment rolling over her. She makes to sit back, but Korra quickly catches her hand. Korra gives her a gentle squeeze and lets go. “Thank you,” she says softly. Then she grins. “But it’s okay! Unalaq isn’t a coach anymore and I’m fine. I mean, I was almost willing to believe him, but I talked it over with my parents and that made _everything_ blow up. Did I...mention that my coach Unalaq was also my uncle Unalaq?”

Asami gapes at her. “Seriously?”

“Yup!” Korra shakes her head. “He and my dad got into a fight, I quit the gymnastics team, my uncle ended up resigning and moving north. It was a whole big mess. And I was…”

“Feeling guilty?”

Korra slowly nods. “Yeah. I was supposed to be this star, you know? I had all these expectations riding on my shoulders. My own most of all! And suddenly, my family was fighting and there was nothing I could do. Yeah, I felt guilty. And lost! And...and for a while I was _even more_ of a butt to everyone around me. You do not want to imagine my buttishness, Asami. It was bad.”

Asami coughs and takes a sip of water while she tries to get rid of the mental image of the adult Korra’s butt in skinny jeans. Asami caught a glimpse of it on the way in to the restaurant. ‘Bad’ is not a word that applies. “Ah, I can imagine, in a situation like that, that you’d be...it must have been tough.”

“It was. But my elbow healed, and things settled down, and I began to realise that I didn’t really know who I was without all that pressure on me. And, okay, that was kinda scary, but I also realised that who I had been _with_ the pressure...well, that wasn’t someone I liked very much.” Korra shrugs. “I got to figure that out pretty young. I think that makes me lucky.”

“Not everyone would agree,” Asami says softly, “but I think you’re right.” And someone special. Asami is becoming increasingly convinced of that, too. “Now, how did all of that lead to you becoming a clown?”

Korra blushes. “Oh, right! I, uh, didn’t mean to give you my whole life story!”

“Korra, please. I’m enjoying talking to you.” 

Asami is treated to another of Korra’s dazzling grins. “Yeah? Great! Okay, so, uh, long story short? Aang’s Aerial Nation Circus came to town and my folks took me to see the show. This was months after the whole elbow thing. I was still pretty moody, and I didn’t even want to go to the show! But I remember that night. I remember watching all the aerialists and the acrobats and the jugglers and the clowns and...it clicked. What I’d been missing when I was trying to be perfect, you know? The _joy_ of it! The spectacle! The laughter! I told my parents when we got back home that I was running away to join the circus.”

Asami laughs. “You didn’t!”

“I totally did! I was...hazy on the concept of running away. And joining circuses.”

Asami snorts, shaking her head. “How did your parents react?”

“They pointed out that I’d have better odds if I stayed in school, worked hard, and applied to circus school.”

“There’s a _circus_ school?” 

“There is! Right here in Republic City. I spent three years there. Wanna know what I learned?”

“I’m going to guess that it involves clowns.”

“Good guess! Among a lot of other things. I learned a little of everything in circus school, but I wanted to focus on acrobatics and aerial techniques. But...I fell into bad old habits and got a bit _too_ intense when I was training. I would get mad at myself whenever I messed up. One mistake would get me so wound up I’d wreck a whole routine. And that’s...not good, obviously. In a performance, mistakes are gonna happen! You’ve got to be able to deal with them.”

Asami nods. “I think that goes for life in general.”

“Right?” Korra laughs. “And this is where the clowns come in. Trying to be an acrobat was too close to what I used to do. To who I used to _be_. But when I put on a dumb wig and some grease paint...I became someone else. And if I made a mistake, people weren’t laughing at _me_ , they were laughing because a clown did something dumb!”

“Huh. So you just...decided to become a clown and abandon the gymnastics?”

“Nah, I do both.” Korra grins and leans across the table, eyes shining. “Actually, I get to do _everything_. You should hear the response I get when I mimic the acrobats’ routines or do a high wire act in all my clown gear. I do all the pratfalls, and juggling, and general buffoonery, too, but I also get my own little moments to shine. Little spots where I get to try _very_ technical things, but make it look sloppy or silly or out of control. I get to satisfy the competitive part of my brain without taking myself too seriously and driving everyone around me up the wall.” 

Korra’s grin softens into a smile and Asami can’t help but smile back. “I get to be happy with who I am as a performer. I get to make _other_ people happy when I perform. And that makes me pretty happy the rest of the time, too. And that...is why I’m a clown.”

“You are a clown,” Asami solemnly agrees. She smiles and raises her glass of water in salute. “And somehow, you’ve made me like that about you.”

Korra laughs and clinks her glass with Asami’s. “Good. I, uh, I hope it makes things easier for you at the hospital. I’d say I could still visit without the makeup, but...the kids expect clown me, not me me.”

Asami sighs. “I...will probably need more time to adjust to clown you. But I meant it when I said I don’t want you to stop on my account. And I mean it when I say I’m very glad to have met you. You you, at least.”

Korra dips her head, maybe in agreement, maybe because it looks like she’s blushing again. Asami feels another pleasant tremor in her stomach. Asami takes advantage of Korra’s downturned eyes to study her face. It’s a _very_ nice face, Asami decides. Possibly the nicest face, in fact.

Just as that thought occurs, Korra looks up. She smiles shyly. “What?”

“Nothing! Just...uh, should we get the bill?” Asami curses herself inwardly while maintaining a smile for Korra’s benefit.

Korra glances at her watch and nods. “I guess. It’s getting late, huh? I didn’t mean to take up so much of your time.”

“No, please! It’s been...um, actually, if _you_ aren’t busy, there’s a good coffee place not far from here?”

Korra grins. Asami decides that she likes being able to make Korra do that. “Yeah? Well, I’m never too busy for coffee!”

* * *

A brief argument about who is paying the bill--which Asami graciously loses--later, they’re walking down the street together. They don’t talk, but their silence holds few of the nerves it did before dinner. Few, but not _none_. Asani finds herself stealing little glances at Korra as they walk, finding her a more engaging sight than the storefronts and alleys that they pass.

Korra catches Asami looking, but she doesn’t say anything. She just smiles and looks away. After a moment of staring at the sidewalk and waiting for her cheeks to cool down, it occurs to Asami that maybe the reason why Korra caught her looking was that Korra’s been sneaking looks at her. Asami looks at Korra. Korra is looking at her, but she quickly turns her head, coughing and turning red.

Asami smiles to herself, enjoying the sudden warm glow in her chest.

They’re almost at the cafe when Korra stops. She points down an alley, grinning. “Look! This is _perfect_.”

Asami looks. She sees an abandoned wire shopping trolley near the mouth of the alley. “Uh...it is?”

“It is! We need to acclimatise you to my clowning ways.” Korra rolls her shoulders and stretches her neck. “So! Wanna see me balance a shopping trolley on my chin?”

Asami blinks. “I...think that, as a medical practitioner, I have to say no?”

“Fair. What about as an Asami?”

Asami smiles. “Still no, I’m afraid. Because you could injure yourself?”

“Pfft! Circus school is pretty much all about balance. _Your_ balance, balancing on things, balancing things on _you_...I’ve got this!”

Korra strides confidently towards the shopping trolley.

“Korra! I’m warning you! I’m not going to treat you if you hurt yourself. You’re an adult, even if you’re acting like a kid.”

Korra laughs. “Fair enough! But I kinda think you’d help anybody in need, if you could.”

Asami rolls her eyes but she has to bite her lip to keep from grinning.

Korra positions herself behind the trolley. She puts her hands on either side of the body of the trolley, bends her knees, takes a breath, then hoists it easily into the air. She lifts the trolley up high, tilts her head back, and lowers the trolley until the push bar is resting on her chin. She makes a series of minute adjustments of her head and her body, then lowers her hands from the trolley. 

It stays hanging in the air with barely a wobble, resting on Korra’s chin.

Asami gapes at her. Then, laughing, she bursts into applause.

Korra starts to say ‘thank you’, but she doesn’t get very far because she has a shopping trolley balanced on her chin. Or _had_. The trolley drops and Korra yelps, diving back. The trolley hits the concrete, bounces with a resounding clatter and hiss of vibrating metal, and ends up half on top of the collapsed, groaning heap that is Korra.

Asami is running before the trolley’s first bounce. “Korra! Are you okay?”

Korra shoves the trolley aside, rolls back onto her shoulders, kicks with her legs, pushes with her hands and is suddenly standing in front of Asami with a grin on her face, entirely uninjured. She winks at Asami, thrusts out her hand, and says, “Hi! I’m a clown. We do pratfalls.”

For a second, Asami is busy processing Korra’s rapid change from the horizontal to the vertical. In the next second, Asami is worried, angry, indignant and seriously considering yelling. When she opens her mouth, though, she bursts out laughing. “Oh! Oh, I was worried! You...what you are, Korra, is a _jerk_!”

“I mean, I’m not the one refusing to shake my hand, so…”

Asami snorts. “See, stuff like this is why nobody likes clowns!”

Korra lowers her hand, but she’s still grinning. “Some people do. Or I’d be an amateur jerk instead of a professional jerk.”

“Lucky for you, some people are weird about the things they like.”

“Yeah.” Korra locks eyes with Asami. “I feel very lucky right now, Asami.”

Asami swallows, but she doesn’t look away. “Done clowning for the moment?”

“I think so. Still want to get coffee?”

“I do. Somehow. Barely.”

Korra laughs, her eyes dancing. “See what I mean? I’m lucky!”

* * *

They share a booth at Shiro’s Coffee. Asami likes it partly because it’s always open late and partly because they make very good coffee in a traditional Fire Nation style. Asami waits for Korra to try her first sip and hides a smile behind her cup when Korra hums in approval.

Asami takes her own sip, cradles her cup in her hands, and sighs. “You haven’t asked about...my thing. With clowns. I...appreciate that.”

Korra hesitates, then nods. “It’s personal. I don’t have a right to pry.”

Asami smiles. “You’re making a dangerously good impression on me, Korra. Just so you know.”

“Well, I have to make up for the first one, right?” Korra treats Asami to another dazzling grin. “But, uh, that’s also...good. And just so you know? You actually did make a good first impression, so you have no ground to make up.”

“Oh, come on! I was a mess.”

“Nuh-uh. You were scared. But you were trying so hard to be polite, and not to freak out or freak _me_ out and that’s...I mean, and then there’s the whole devotedly caring for sick children thing. That doesn’t make a good impression, that’s just _good_.”

Asami shakes her head. “It’s my job.”

Korra smiles. “I think it’s more than that. You _care_. And the kids in that ward, the ones I’ve spoken to? They know it. They feel cared for. They feel safe.”

Asami lowers her eyes, not sure what to say. Until, abruptly, she is. Her knuckles whiten around her coffee cup. “The Amazing Amon performed at my sixth birthday party.”

“Huh? Wait, _the_ Amon? But...that’d be more than twenty years ago, right when he...oh. Oh, Asami...”

Asami nods. “Yeah. It made the news, and I’m not surprised you heard some version of the story, being in the circus. I’m the girl who killed the Amazing Amon’s career. And he...almost killed me.”

After a moment’s quiet, Korra says, “He didn’t have much of a career left at that point anyway. He put a lot into that TV show of his and it tanked pretty hard. So don’t…” Korra touches a finger to the back of Asami’s hand. “You know, you’re right. I’ve only heard the rumours about what happened. I don’t know the truth.” Korra pauses. In a soft voice she adds, “You don’t have to tell me anything. Okay? But I’ll listen, if you want to talk.”

Asami sighs. “There isn’t that much to say. My father had a business contact who knew Amon. And Amon had a lot of debts, so he agreed to do a kid’s birthday party. Mine. It was a big affair. I didn’t _want_ it to be, but my father...well. There were a lot of other kids there, mostly because their parents were associates of my parents. I had friends, of course, but...I barely knew most of the other children there.”

“Sounds...awkward.”

“It was...he wanted to show how much he loved me. My father. He did. But he figured the bigger the occasion, the better. And he figured he might as well get some business done, while he was at it, and those impulses decided the guest list and the nature of the whole day. After an hour of it, I wanted to hide and read a book. But if I did _that_ , I’d be ‘letting down my guests.’ I took that seriously. The idea that the guests were my responsibility? I took that to heart. I didn’t want to disappoint anyone, least of all my father.”

Korra clears her throat, shifting in her seat without breaking contact with Asami’s hand. “I, uh, didn’t realise that you were _that_ Sato. But...I did notice that you don’t drive a Satomobile.”

“No,” Asami says flatly. “I don’t. Neither does my mom.”

“Oh.”

That’s all. Asami lapses into silence, and Korra lets her. She doesn’t press or try to change the subject. She doesn’t stop touching Asami either. Just a single finger on the back of her hand, exerting no pressure but providing a kind of tether that helps keep Asami in this moment, preventing her from entirely slipping into the unwelcome past.

When she feels stable enough, Asami raises her cup to her lips, breaking contact, and drinks. Korra folds her hands on the tabletop and offers her a smile. Asami accepts it and returns it. “So. I think Amon or his agent decided that while a kid’s birthday party was beneath the great man’s dignity, he was getting older, he was in debt, and if it went well, with all those rich parents and their children in the audience, events like that could become a nice sideline for him.”

“So Amon put on a show for you…”

“Mmhm. In the grounds of my father’s estate. But...I don’t know. I didn’t like him. I didn’t think he was funny, I found him...threatening. I got the impression that he didn’t really like children. And I think he decided he was too good for the job. He was...mean. The jokes he made, the tricks he played...they were clever, but mean.” Asami shrugs. “At least, that’s how I remember it.”

Korra nods. “I was never really a fan of his, but some of his old shows were filmed and bits of his TV show survived. From what I saw, if he didn’t think a bit was going over, he’d blame the audience. He could be mean, for sure. I think he probably was just mean.”

“Yeah. I think he was.” Asami finishes her coffee and puts the cup aside. She laces her fingers together and studies her hands. They don’t look like they’re shaking, or at least, not more than could be attributed to the caffeine. “I feel so stupid. It wasn’t a...he didn’t _try_ to kill me. He was just a mean jerk and I was...I was unlucky, I guess.”

Korra leans closer, resting her forearms on the table. Again, she doesn’t say anything. She just waits.

Asami sighs. “I was unhappy. I’d been unhappy most of the day, but Amon wasn’t just upsetting me. He was upsetting the guests. _My_ guests. And my father wasn’t around, so if anyone was going to do something, it had to be me. That’s what I thought. So I got up, and I asked the Amazing Amon to stop. He wasn’t being nice, and I wanted him to leave.”

Korra twitches, but she doesn’t speak.

“And he turned and stared at me...with that blank white face and those cruel eyes and that painted smile, and he said ‘You don’t like my jokes? What about my slapstick?’” Asami groans, shaking her head. “And he threw a pie at me. He hit me in the face with a custard pie.”

Korra doesn’t laugh. Asami looks at her and sees that Korra’s fists are clenched and her face is tight with anger. She takes a breath and, in a surprisingly gentle voice says, “You aren’t stupid. And he wasn’t just mean. He was a cruel, vicious bully. And at the _height_ of his career, he didn’t deserve to have you in his audience.”

Asami gapes at her.

“Sorry.” Korra blushes and ducks her head, the anger draining out of her and loosening the tension in her muscles. “I don’t like bullies. And I would never, ever let anyone in a show I was part of do something like that to a kid.”

Asami lays a hand on Korra’s. “You...are a very sweet person. For a clown.”

Korra coughs out a laugh. “I’m one of the good clowns. He was one of the bad ones.”

“Telling me there are bad clowns...does not help my fears, Korra.”

“No, no! See, some people are bad, right? So it stands to reason that some clowns will be bad. But there is good news here!”

Asami cradles her chin in her palm. She looks into Korra’s eyes, smiling. “Oh?”

“Yeah.” Korra nods firmly, her lips crooking up into a smile. “Good clowns are required to stop bad clowns. So, as long as I’m around? Yeah, I’ll fight off the bad clowns for you. Not even because I want to, though I do! I _have to_ , Asami. It’s clown law. And I’m a law-abiding clown.”

Asami laughs. “That’s good to know. I...have been studying martial arts for twenty years, though. I do know how to look after myself.”

Korra’s eyes widen. “Whoah! That is...a thing that I would not have guessed but that I find I very much like about you. Still...I’ll watch your back. In case of clown sneak attacks. Which are, admittedly, not a common thing. The big shoes and the squeaky noses aren’t the best for stealth.”

“Wouldn’t, ah, wouldn’t it make more sense to take off the squeaky nose on a stealth mission?”

“Are you _kidding_?” Korra gasps in mock outrage. “We can’t take off our noses! Clown law, Asami!”

“But...wouldn’t bad clowns be more likely to _break_ clown law?”

“Not even bad clowns break clown law, Asami. At least, not _bad_ clown law.”

“Ooooh, there’s a bad clown law now?”

“Sure! Uh, I mean, there has been since the beginning of the history of bad clowns, _obviously_! There have to be laws, and you have to stick to them, or else you’re not a clown. So a bad clown who took off their squeaky nose to be stealthy, well...they wouldn’t be a clown anymore. They’d just be a bad.”

This time, Asami giggles, her embarrassment at the sound she makes instantly burned away by Korra’s appreciative grin. “I had no idea being a clown was so complicated.”

“Well, you know…” Korra huffs on her nails and buffs them on her t-shirt. “Not everyone’s cut out for a life of clowning. It takes the best!”

Asami’s smile fades. “Or the worst.”

Korra winces. “Yeah.”

There’s another silence. Asami takes her time, knowing that Korra won’t break it. At length, Asami shrugs. “Wanna hear the rest?”

“I do.”

“Okay. I’m allergic to vanilla. Which is...not common. But what’s rare is, I’m _extremely_ allergic to vanilla. Some of the custard from the pie went into my mouth, and, because of the vanilla extract, I...went into anaphylaxis.”

“Spirits,” whispers Korra, her eyes wide. “That’s so awful...”

Asami grimaces. “It...was. I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t know I was allergic back then. And I was shocked and confused because of the pie, and I started feeling anxious. I was struggling to breathe, but...that didn’t seem strange, in the circumstances. And there was a lot of yelling, at that point. My mom apparently ran in and punched Amon. Knocked him down! I wish I’d seen that part, but I had custard in my eyes.”

“Whoah! Your mom sounds awesome!”

Asami smiles. “She is. And that’s...most of it. One of the parents was a doctor, luckily, and as soon as my mom realised that I wasn’t just upset, that something was wrong, she got the doctor to take a look at me. He saved my life.” Asami remembers the sensation of her throat closing, of the desperate, whistling breaths she struggled to take, of the terror building and building inside her with no relief in sight. She remembers being bundled into a car, her eyes swelling shut, blinding her, and...she shuts the memories away. She decides not to mention all of that to Korra. 

Not tonight. 

“I survived, of course. But when news got out...Amon’s career was over. No one would hire him after he almost killed the daughter of a titan of industry.” Asami’s smile becomes rueful. “And that’s why I...have a tiny bit of a thing about clowns.”

“Yeah.” Korra shakes her head. “I don’t blame you. And I’m so sorry you went through that.”

“Well…” Asami shrugs. “It was a long time ago.”

It gets quiet again after that. Korra finishes her cold coffee, staring at the table, giving Asami time to clear her head. By the time she’s got all of her memories packed away again, the sky has turned black.

Asami groans. “I’m sorry. I...should probably let you go. It’s been good… _really_ good, Korra. But it is actually getting late now.”

“Yeah.” Korra looks at her and smiles. “It has been good, but I guess it is.”

They gather themselves up and go out into what is now the full dark of night. The street lights and store lights around them punctuate the dark, and Asami looks around carefully, fearful of full stops. When she looks at Korra, though, Korra is waiting at the edge of the sidewalk, watching Asami and smiling faintly. Whatever tonight has been, it appears that Korra is in no more of a hurry for it to end than Asami is.

“Hey,” Korra says quietly. “Thank you for telling me the true story.”

Asami smiles. “Thank _you_ for...being a good clown. I’m sure I’m still going to freak out when I see you in costume, but...but it’ll only be until I realise it’s you in there, and then I don’t think I’ll be scared...any...more.” 

Asami gasps. It occurs to her that when she looks at Korra, she looks _down_ at Korra, who is a few inches shorter than Asami. 

Korra raises an eyebrow at her. “You okay?”

“Um...yeah. I...would you say you’re around average height?”

Korra blinks. “Uh, no. No I would not. I am, in fact, an inch and a quarter taller than the statistical average.”

Two things occur to Asami in rapid succession. The first, which should have been obvious much sooner, is that Pema’s prediction came true and it was about Korra. The second, though, is the one that takes priority. “Korra! Do you...do you maybe have just a tiny bit of a thing about your _height_?”

Korra’s eyes widen. Her nostrils flare. “Noooo, because we have clearly established that--far from being tiny--I am taller than average. Which makes me, in fact, tall.”

Asami bursts out laughing. “You totally have a thing about your height!”

Korra flushes. “It’s not my fault every adult I know is weird and taller than me! I’m above average! I should know some short adults and--” Korra blinks. “Wait...why did you ask me that?”

Asami wipes a tear from the corner of her eye. “Huh? Oh, I...you know Pema? I mean, of course you do! Well, she predicted that I’d meet someone, and...I think that someone is you. I don’t believe in fate, but I can’t deny that Pema was right about you.”

To Asami’s surprise, Korra neither scoffs nor expresses her wonder. Instead, she scowls and clenches her teeth. “Spirits, Pema! Whyyyy?”

“Uh...am I missing something?”

Korra groans. “Just...my supposed friends trying to embarrass me. Pema knew I was going to talk to you about all this stuff tonight. I...kinda maybe ran it all past her?”

“Oh.” Asami hesitates. “Ah...some of the things she said were...um…”

Asami trails off, but she imagines that her blush does a pretty good job of indicating that Pema talked up Korra’s charm and beauty, and if she wasn’t receiving visions from the spirits but reacting to what Korra told her…

Korra rubs at the back of her neck. “I...may have told Pema things _in confidence_ that may have, somehow, led her to believe that I was maybe kinda slightly attracted to you?”

“Oh.” Asami bites her cheek. “What things could those have been?”

“Asami!” Korra glares at her. “Are you laughing at me?”

“Can’t you tell?” Asami leans forward so that her eyes are on the same level as Korra’s. “Does this help?”

Korra chokes, her face reddens, she snorts, then suddenly she laughs. “Oh, great! Another tall person in my life who wants to make fun of my height! Perfect! Just what I needed!”

“I think it might be more than just your height, now I know I can fluster you like this.”

Korra smirks. “Oh, really? Are you sure you want to play this game with me?”

Asami flips her hair over her shoulders. “Fairly, yes.”

“Well how about this? I told Pema that everyone at the hospital said you were the kindest, hardest-working, most talented doctor they’d ever worked with.”

“Uh…” Asami’s grin dissolves. “Oh…”

“Uh huh. That’s what I thought.” Korra’s smirk becomes more smug. “ _And_ I told her you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen!”

“Oh.” Asami swallows, suddenly very aware of how close Korra’s face is to hers. “Korra…”

“Ahhh…” Korra’s eyes widen and her smirk vanishes. “I...think I meant to keep that an inside thought? Not an out loud thing I said?” She swallows. “It’s, uh, true though. You are. And getting to know you? Even a little bit? It’s been...well...it makes me think I’m...”

Suddenly, Korra’s foot slips off the edge of the sidewalk. She stumbles, tries to hop to regain her balance and somehow kicks her leg out from under her, so violently she flips over and lands on her back on the sidewalk.

Asami quickly kneels beside her. “Are you…?”

Korra winks at her and smiles. “I’m pratfalling for you, Asami.”

Asami clutches her stomach and ends up sitting next to Korra, shaking with laughter. When she has enough breath to speak, Asami gasps, “Oh, Spirits! That is...somehow the _dumbest_...and the _sweetest_ thing!”

Korra sits up and grins at Asami. She bumps her shoulder against Asami’s. “I’m a clown. Clown law makes flirting _really_ tough sometimes. Just, uh, pretend I’m wearing the nose.”

“I’d rather not. I like your real nose much better. I like your whole face, actually. Quite a bit.”

“Oh. Yeah?”

Asami chuckles. “Yeah. So...I’m meeting some friends from the hospital for drinks next week. Would you like to come with me?”

Korra stares at her. “Like...as a date?”

Asami bumps Korra’s shoulder. “Tell me, what would you say tonight was?”

Korra’s grin blazes to life. “I’d kinda have to say date.”

“Well, then. I suppose we’ll have to make next week a date, too.”

“I just can’t find a way to argue with that logic. Let’s do it.” After they exchange numbers, Korra hops to her feet and offers her hand to Asami. Asami takes it and lets herself be helped to her feet. Korra doesn’t let go of her hand right away. “I guess this is good night?”

Asami’s stomach flutters again. “I guess it is…”

Korra stands up on her tiptoes and kisses Asami’s cheek. “Good night, Asami. I’m really looking forward to seeing you again.”

Asami smiles. “I am too! Looking forward to seeing the you you, anyway.”

“Right.” Korra chuckles.

“Do you need a ride anywhere?”

“Nah, I’m not far from my hotel. I’ll walk. Thanks, though.”

Asami nods, hesitates, then reluctantly backs away from Korra. “Good night, Korra.”

Korra smiles, waves, and turns away. After a couple of steps, though, she pauses and turns back. She grins when she finds Asami watching her. “Hey, Asami?”

“Yes?”

“Is there any kind of dress code at this place we’re going to?”

Asami folds her arms. “Korra.”

Korra laughs, holding up her hands. “It’s a reasonable question!”

“No clowns, Korra!”

Korra laughs again. “I solemnly vow, you won’t find a speck of grease paint anywhere on me!”

Asami grins. “Oh? Well, I’ll take your word for it this time. Checking something like that is more of a third date thing, don’t you think?”

She takes the dumbfounded look on Korra’s face with her as Asami walks away with a wave, her blood singing giddy songs in her veins. Korra’s startled laughter follows her, warm and genuine and full of joy.

That night, the hours of sleep that she loses to thinking about a clown are, for the first time in Asami’s life, entirely happy ones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading folks!
> 
> Apologies for not replying to comments, but I was busy writing this chapter. I appreciate them all, and I'll get to them tomorrow! But if you should desire to leave a fresh, new comment on this chapter, then I would very much appreciate that, too! :)
> 
> Edit: Spoiler warning, I stayed up and answered the comments. I'm gonna sleep now. Night!

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day, folks! I hope you have/had a good one, especially if the special person you were with was you yourself. I hope you did something nice for yourself.
> 
> This fic got more involved than I expected it to, so I couldn't get it all done today. I'll post the conclusion soon (ish)!
> 
> (If I may do some quick housekeeping: I've been on a bit of a writing break the last couple of weeks and am slowly working my way back in. Blue Spirit fans, I'm very late but there will be lots of exciting Blue Spirit things coming this year, fear not!:)
> 
> Thanks for reading! Please do leave a comment!


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